


Smooth Criminal

by BlueJay_Silvertongue



Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Bondage, Established Relationship, F/F, Isabel Maru in her element, It does start as a sickfic-ish, Smut, and then things happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 12:55:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12233265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueJay_Silvertongue/pseuds/BlueJay_Silvertongue
Summary: Isabel finds a goddess sprawled facedown on her couch.





	Smooth Criminal

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been waiting four months for someone to write this, but apparently no one is, so here’s me taking one for the team.

“What… is _this?”_

The figure sprawled facedown on the couch makes some noncommittal sound that is halfway between a growl and a grunt, but doesn’t move. Isabel steps forward into the dark parlor and lifts up one of the limp locks of hair spilling over the side of the armrest. The warrior’s sword and shield have been tossed carelessly across the room, and Isabel bites back a sharp rebuke when she notices the smears of blood on her wool carpet.

“Are you hurt?” she says instead, peering down at the still body. The muscular shoulders are covered in a grimy layer of dust and sweat, but the woman’s flawless skin and thick armor appear unharmed.

“No,” comes the short, muffled reply, and Isabel huffs. In another moment she has stalked out of the room, and when she returns with a maid, Diana still hasn’t moved.

“Set it there,” she orders, and the servant sets down the heavy basin of hot water onto the ornate side-table beside the couch. Another enters and lays down a pile of soft towels and a folded sheet. Neither of them comment on the motionless goddess, or the alarming state of her recently-used weapons. Isabel waves them away, and they shut the parlor door tightly behind them.

Isabel loosens the tiara of Antiope from Diana’s tangled hair, and the goddess grumbles like an animal being woken from its afternoon nap.

“Stay where you are,” Isabel orders. _You spoiled child,_ she adds silently as she reaches down to unclasp her lover’s dusty boots.

“I give up. No more fights.”

“Good. It’s about time,” Isabel says shortly, but her touch is gentle as she unfastens the silver bracelets. Diana’s fingers tangle with her own for a moment before falling once more to trail the carpet beside the couch. Isabel tsks, then she unlatches the warrior’s armor, pulling it aside to reveal an almost blinding expanse of smooth, pale skin. Isabel ignores the thrill that races through her and turns to snatch up one of the washcloths. Her heart is pounding as she submerges it in the basin, and she knows the flush creeping up her cheeks is not merely a reaction to the hot water.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Diana’s muffled voice says to the cushions as Isabel begins to scrub the residue of the battle from her lover’s warm skin.

“Not as much as I am about to,” Isabel retorts, shoving over the heavy body. Diana groans, but she gives a tired smile as they find themselves face to face at last. Isabel blinks, because even two years later, she is still struck dumb by the Amazon princess’ sheer, inhuman beauty, and the fact that a woman like this is even _looking_ at her, much less _smiling._ Diana reaches for her like a child, but Isabel shakes herself out of her stunned state and bats the goddess’ hands away with the towel.

“No. Not until you are _clean_ ,” Isabel insists, trying not to smile as Diana pouts. But her eyes are soft as she turns away and resumes her work. The chemist’s touch is causal, almost impersonal as she travels down the goddess’ body, and Diana sighs in relief as she finally sponges away the last traces of the attack.

“What kind of creature was it this time?” Isabel asks, frowning as she tosses aside the cloth.

“Big. Strange. Some alien. I almost felt sorry for it,” Diana mumbles, stretching out and closing her eyes.

“You _would_ ,” Isabel mutters, snapping out the sheet and drawing it up over Diana’s long body.

“Is this... a _sheet_?” Diana says incredulously without opening her eyes. Isabel gives a short laugh and mimics,

“‘ _Isabel, does an average woman need FIVE blankets on her bed in the middle of spring-'”_

“What?! I have _never_ called you average- and I do not sound like that!” Diana protests, her mouth curling into an indignant smile.

“No?” Isabel challenges, but she bends and plants a tender kiss on the goddess’ offended lips before turning to gather up the towels. Diana opens her eyes and smiles sleepily at her.

“Isabel…”

“What is it?” she replies without looking away from the linen she is folding.

“Come here. I want to tell you a secret.”

Isabel rolls her eyes and sets the stack of towels onto the table with a soft thump.

“Fine. What?”

The goddess stretches out an arm towards her, and Isabel raises an eyebrow.

“Come _here_ ,” Diana repeats, impatience edging into her voice. Isabel laughs and strides forward. Diana seats her firmly on the couch, holding her in place so then Isabel cannot see her. But Isabel can _feel_ the goddess as she sits up, tucks a stray hair behind her ear, and leans forward. Her breath is warm on Isabel’s neck as she rests her chin on her bony shoulder, and Isabel shivers as Diana’s arm tightens around her middle.

“Do you see this sheet?” Diana breathes, her lips pressing lightly against Isabel’s ear, then traveling down her neck, peppering her skin with hot kisses along the way. Isabel squirms at the sensation and mumbles something akin to, _Yes_ , _of course, I put it there_. Diana shifts and pulls her back into her lap, and Isabel can feel the goddess’ heart pounding loudly against the side of her head as she looks up at the shadowed face.

“If you are very good, I will let you take it away.”

Isabel whimpers as Diana grins down at her, then the goddess pushes her face into the crook of Isabel’s neck, pushing her backwards, deep into the couch. Isabel seizes at Diana’s long hair, trying desperately to keep her breath even.

“I am never _very good_ , and you _know_ that,” Isabel rasps, her thoughts spinning dizzily as the blood rushes to her head. Diana retaliates by giving her a hard bite, making her gasp. Strong hands unceremoniously yank away the simple blouse that Isabel had donned after returning home from the lab, and she barely hears as the thin fabric rips. Diana doesn’t bother with the mechanics of her underthings, and Isabel hisses as she tears them away just as easily as the rest. They are tossed, ruined, across the room to join the sword and shield.

“Was that _necessary?”_ she demands, but Diana simply licks away the dribble of blood from Isabel’s neck, then lifts her head, her eyes dancing with amusement.

“ _You tell me_.”

And Isabel feels her wrists being seized roughly and pressed into the cushions above her head, and Diana’s hand cupping her breast, and she’s panting as a thumb circles her stiff nipple. She means to make some retort, but the thought flits from her mind as Diana's knee parts her legs, and tension is flooding through her in waves, and she is left completely helpless to the woman atop her, left helpless to her own unsated desire.

Diana murmurs some strange word, and the lasso slides up the side of the couch, slithering around Isabel’s wrists, binding them tight. And then Diana pushes herself away and rises, the sheet still wrapped around her graceful body like she is some greek goddess, stepped down into the world from some magnificent painting. Isabel is still breathing hard as she turns to glare at her.

_Don’t stop, don't you dare stop, you terrible, terrible woman…_

But Isabel has had a lifetime of practice controlling her impulses, and so she grits her teeth and says nothing as Diana smiles that maddening smile at her, her head tilted slightly, as if surveying her work.

For a moment, they stare at each other in silence, waiting for each other to break, then Isabel opens her mouth, her fingers grasping at the lasso binding her, and she whispers,

“ _δέω._ ”

And she feels a feral rush of triumph as the lasso loosens from around her wrists and leaps forward towards its new target. Diana stumbles back as the golden rope snaps around her arms, pulling them up over her head, and Isabel seizes her advantage, pushing her roughly down onto the soft carpet.

“ _You… You…"_ The powerful woman cannot even speak, and Isabel crawls up her hard body to look her in the face. The goddess looks scandalized.

“ _Who_ gave you permission to wield the lasso of Hestia?” she demands, straining against the glowing cords. Isabel bares her teeth, offering her lover a cruel smile.

“Well, we _are_ rather well acquainted.”

“Isabel!”

“All I did was say a strange word, _Princesa_ ,” Isabel says innocently, curling a length of the goddess’ hair around her fingers and tugging lightly. Diana growls at her, and she chuckles in return. She can almost _feel_ Diana’s blood racing through her body beneath her. She doesn’t know if it’s from rage or lust, and she doesn’t care. “Now... _where were we?_ ”

Isabel’s mind is already spinning from Diana working her up and leaving her to beg, and the chemist has no qualms whatsoever about doing the same to the furious goddess. Multiple times.

_You DID know what you were doing when you fell in love with the most infamous woman in Europe, did you not?_ she breathes as Diana pants beneath her. She swears at her in five different languages in return, and Isabel laughs unkindly, bending down to bite Diana’s lower lip. Her teeth close down hard enough to draw blood. 

_Goddamnit, Isabel, if I wanted to be tortured, I would have LET the fucking alien beat me,_ Diana snarls when Isabel pushes her up to the brink and then pulls back once more. Isabel pretends to consider this, then she says casually,

_Well, if you are very good, then maybe I will give you what you… desire._

Diana kicks her, and Isabel skids aside, grinning.

_In what universe is that considered very good?_

_You INFURIATING woman-_

_And now you are insulting me?_

_Please..._

_Oh, that is better._

Isabel’s fingers push roughly into her and Diana moans.

_Is this what you want?_

_You- know- what- I- want-_

_Then ask for it._

_I am!_

_No._ Beg _for it._

Isabel pulls back again, and she does not give in until the goddess is thrashing beneath her, begging like some shameless mortal. Diana’s protests die away in an instant at her touch, and Isabel’s eyes are narrowed in concentration as she watches her like the scientist she is, studying her reactions as she curls her fingers into her, and as her body jerks in response.

_Isabel… Isabel, Isabel…_ One finger presses into her, and then two, and then three, stroking, thrusting, experimenting. Diana shudders obediently, moaning as Isabel quickens her pace. When Isabel is satisfied at last that her lover is ready, she bends and flicks her tongue against her clit, her fingers thrusting hard into her, and Diana shrieks, her hands grasping desperately at her traitorous lasso as tension floods her body. Isabel does not leave off until Diana falls back to the carpet, panting hard, her body limp and her skin covered once more in a slick layer of sweat.

_Isabel…_ Her voice is faint, but it is tender. Isabel crawls up and loosens the lasso from her lover’s wrists, then dips down to meet her trembling lips with a kiss that tastes like sex and sweat and blood. Diana’s arms capture her, pulling her close, and she kisses her back with such abandon that Isabel thinks for a fleeting moment that Diana is trying to suffocate her. But then the goddess takes her by the shoulders and pushes her away slightly, and she is grinning.

“Yes. I like you very much.”

And Isabel tries to scowl at the ridiculous words, but she finds herself smiling back instead. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I don't often venture into this side of the fic-writing, so comments/critiques are especially welcome!
> 
> Also, this scene could _technically_ take place in the middle of Chapter 9 of Hatred, but it could also be part of a completely different universe where Diana and Isabel are in a relationship after Diana's BvS fight with Doomsday, so... pick your poison.


End file.
